shiver on my skin
by humanveil
Summary: Kinktober '18. Elliot flicks his gaze up, eyes clear and bright and sparkling with something mischievous as he says, "Ask nicely." E/O. PWP. Oneshot.


**Title:** shiver on my skin  
 **Pairing:** Elliot/Olivia.  
 **Rating:** NC17.  
 **Words:** 800.  
 **Summary:** _He drags his lips up over the flesh of her thigh, leaves wet, open mouthed kisses against the skin: a prelude, a preview of what's coming. What she wants. What he's waiting for her to ask for._  
 **Notes:** Written as a fill for the Kinktober prompt 'begging'. I'm not actually doing the challenge this year, but I had the time to write this one, so enjoy! Pure PWP.

[]

They're barely through the door of her apartment before they reach for each other, this part a practiced act. A routine. Elliot's hand takes hold of hers and Olivia grabs, pulls, leads him through the hallway to her bedroom. Every step accompanied by another touch, a kiss, a point of pressure.

It's been brewing all night, this. Attraction bubbling, desire building. There's always a risk to undercover work, a layer of chance, possibility. _Opportunity._ It opens doors for impulses they usually keep at bay to flourish. Break free. Culminate to _this_.

Olivia falls to the bed, sits at the foot of it and Elliot follows, kisses her, drags his hands down over her body until his fingers are grappling at the hem of her dress. He slips them under, slides the fabric up, lets it bunch around her waist and settles down in front of her.

He's been teasing her all night: whispered words and murmured promises, casual touches lingering long enough to put her on edge. Leave her wanting. All of it leading them here. Olivia curls a hand around the back of his neck, leans forward to kiss him—slow and careful—before she pulls away. Lies on her back. _Expectant._

Elliot grins. Reaches forward to hook a finger in the elastic of her underwear before pulling them off slowly. Olivia helps him, lifts her hips to make it easier and sighs as Elliot trails his hand along her calf, over her thigh, up to where she's wet and waiting. The first finger slips inside easily, his thumb sliding to rub against her clit, ease some of the ache.

Olivia moans in response—the soft, breathy sigh sending a jolt through Elliot's abdomen. It's followed by something indiscernible, by a mumbled request, but Elliot gets the gist of it. Doesn't need to hear the words to make out the impatience. The _want._

Naturally, he decides to be difficult. Drag it out.

He drags his lips up over the flesh of her thigh, leaves wet, open mouthed kisses against the skin: a prelude, a preview of what's coming. What she wants. What he's waiting for her to ask for.

"Elliot," Olivia says, guttural and strained; would-be desperate if she were the type to let it show. She doesn't add anything after, but it's there, hovering in the space between them. A demand for _more, now, quickly, please_.

Elliot flicks his gaze up, looks at her over the length of her body. His eyes clear and bright and sparkling with something mischievous as he says, "Ask nicely." It's playfully sardonic, said to get a reaction.

She gives him one. Her knee jerks, almost clips his chin. Elliot moves quickly—lifts his free hand to grab hold of it, presses it down against the mattress and laughs: the sound soft and airy, every bit the smart-ass Olivia knows he is. It trails over her skin, his breath warm where it ghosts across her thigh, makes her _squirm,_ and she could kill him, Olivia thinks. Wants to, in that moment.

"Elliot," she says again. It catches in her throat, this time, and she swallows. Wants to shut her eyes but doesn't want to look away; still adores the sight of him there, kneeling at her feet. Situated between her legs like it's where he belongs. Like he's _meant_ to be there.

Elliot kisses her leg again, then. Follows the press of lips with his teeth, drags them along the flesh of her inner thigh. Hard enough to _almost_ hurt. He soothes it with his tongue, licks along the indent left behind and hooks the finger in her cunt. Smiles against skin when her hips try to buck up. Seek more.

He looks up again, his eyes still twinkling, and. _Fuck it_ , Olivia thinks. Just—

 _"Please_ ," she says. Once, twice. Three times. Quiet and then louder, her eyes falling shut when she feels Elliot's smile widen, feels his free hand tighten its hold on her. _Victorious._

"See," he says, voice low, rough, "wasn't so hard, was it?"

And he's still got that tone, that tilt to his words that lets Olivia know he's enjoying this. That he likes riling her up, that he's doing it on purpose. She opens her mouth to bite back, but the words die in her throat. Are replaced by a hitch of breath, a quiet groan. Elliot's mouth put to better use as he finally, _finally_ gives her what she wants: his tongue finding her clit and lapping at it, a second finger added with the first.

Pleasure spreads through her body, like scratching a long-standing itch, and Olivia doesn't care that he won this time. _Can't_ , not when Elliot makes her feel this good. Not when she knows there will be ample opportunity to get him back.

[]

* * *

 **A/N:** There it is! Side note: I have more little oneshots that I usually only put on AO3, mostly because I post a lot from my phone and that website is easier to navigate, but if people are interested I can crosspost them here as well. Let me know!


End file.
